There Are No Strings On Me
by Wings Of Sanguine
Summary: Peter comes to Earth in search of the powerful Mind Stone, as well as toting back a robotic head he found floating in the cosmos. Hoping to get answers, he is met with a powerful young woman in need of guidance, and the Guardians have no choice but to team up with her team when a deadly enemy returns with means of revenge aimed at her. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GOTG OR AVENGERS: AOU
1. Chapter 1

Peter Quill whistled a tune to himself as he strode through the doors of the facility, eyes wandering to admire the monochromatic theme of the building. It was a pentagonal shape with a flat plateau for a roof, square shingles of glass reflecting the sun against the walls on the outside. A large statue depicting the letter "a" sat out front.

And not a single person was walking around, outside or in.

 _Weird…_ he thought, raising an eyebrow as he glanced around. Even though he hadn't spent that much time on Earth lately, he figured they would have better security. To just let a gun-toting, half-alien strainer waltz right in was completely bizarre.

He guessed it also was weirder that he had a genetically modified raccoon with him. That of which was currently very, _very_ irritated.

"Why do we even have to come here?" Rocket complained, juggling his laser blaster in one hand and a white plant pot in other. Inside the pot was his trusty sidekick, a talking tree named Groot. of course, at the moment Groot was nothing but a sapling, wiggling away happily in the dirt.

"I am Groot!" he squeaked, smile broadening on his face. Rocket's tail wagged as he walked alongside Peter, long whiskers twitching when he wiggled his nose, freezing instantly in his spot. Peter didn't notice, continuing to stroll down the lobby entrance. The design was just as bland as its exterior with pale blue colors decorating every surface. Glass was delicately placed on countertops and squared off on walls to replicate mirrors, and Rocket thought Peter's reflection look slightly warped as he walked past them, almost as if his far were refracted by an invisible crack in the glass.

"You know, I expected more from these guys," Peter commented, "I mean, these are the Avengers! The should be living it up! Making a scene!"

Rocket watched as he stopped to check his teeth in a mirror by a concierge desk that was pushed up against the wall, licking his lips as he bared two rows of pearly whites. His bright orange headphones that sat around his neck were a dramatic contrast compared to the dull blue of the paint.

"Quill…" Rocket warned, but Peter either didn't hear or was purposefully ignoring him as he began to hum his little song again, a few words escaping from his lips.

"I've got no strings… to hold me down…" he sang under his breath trying to dance to the tune. Rocket watched him warily, claws clicking on the tiled floor as he ran after the bastard, who started making his way towards the end of the lobby, a door leading to the rest of the building.

"Yo! Asswipe!" Rocket yelled at the man, clutching a startled Groot close to his chest. Still, he was unable to get his attention, panic rising in his chest.

Someone was in the building. Obviously, the Avengers practically lived in the new building, so it was a given that they would be here, but he knew the scent of the Avengers. This scent, this new one was a stranger. Tail twitching, Rocket tucked Groot into his pocket, getting on all fours to scurry around, investigate every corner he could find, knock and scratch at walls and just overall make a shit-ton of noise. Finally noticing one Rocket jumped over his feet, Peter slipped off his headphones, leaving them to rest around his neck. A synthesized, eighties pop tune could be heard blasting from the speakers.

"Rocket, what are you doing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his furry friend.

"Were you not listening?" Rocket retorted, raising his head in Peter's direction, ear's pricked up alertly. "Someones here."

"What, you mean the Avengers?" Peter replied, "Of course they're here, they basically live here. And if you keep scratching up the paint you do realize we have no means of paying for a new paint job?" Looking around, the animals sniffed loudly at the air, sucking oxygen into his lungs.

Yeah, this person did not smell familiar. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a set of stairs, and for a second the raccoon thought he could see a wisp of red flying down them…

Ignoring it, he tugged on Peter's sleeve, saying, "Dude, turn off your music!" Groaning audibly (and to taunt him, obviously), Peter placed the headphones back on his ears, only to yell in pain as Rocket punched him in the leg, pain sprouting from his calf. Peter nearly ripped apart his headphones, rolling his eyes as he took them off, "Dude, what is your _problem_?!"

Rocket jutted his chin towards the stairs, "We aren't alone, Quill." Peter chuckled- of course they weren't alone; Gamora and Drax were waiting outside, and the Avengers were most likely somewhere in the building. Peter scoffed, "Duh, the Avengers live here idiot!" A yelp escaped his lips as Rocket scratched him in annoyance, teeth bared in anger.

"It's not one of them, it's someone ne-"

Before the animal could finish, a blast of red propelled hi into a wall, Groot and his pot clattering to the floor, rolling until he bumped to a stop under a large, floor length mirror on the opposite side of the room.

"Rocket, what the fuck?!" Peter shouted, whipping out his pistol, hand shaking as he held stout in front of him. Feeling drew seep through him, he realized that just being able to walk in like they had was too good to be true. Something was bound to happen, and the Avengers definitely had security.

And that security, Peter had to admit, was very pretty. He didn't even bother to resist whistling, the music still coming from his headphones. Standing on the marbled white stairs was a young woman in her twenties with long brown hair cascading down her back, tumbling in waves over her shoulders. She wore a plain black dress that reached her knees paired with black combat boots, a ed leather jacket decorating her upper body. Necklaes dangled on delicate chains around her neck, and Peter's eye immediately caught sight of a black stone hanging from a string of gold, twinkling under the fluorescent lights. Is that what I think it is? Peter thought, gulping down the idea when he met the woman's glare.

"So, uh, aren't you gonna give me a tour?" Peter joked, wiping at his nose, the leather sleeve of his jacket ought against his skin. The girl was quiet, her eyes wide with what he could only describe as course, after what she did to Rocket just now (whatever _that_ was) it could have been fear. With the flick of her hand, the woman formed a ball of red.. mist, for lack of a better term, palming the energy as she turned it over and over. Licking his lips, Peter hastily raised his gun.

That was definitely fear. That, or she was just extremely territorial.

"I guess a tour is out of the question _HOLY SHITBALLS_!" he exclaimed, ducking out of the way just in time as she sent a blast towards him. Log rolling towards Rocket, he snatched his plant friend on the way, carefully tucking the little guy inside his pocket. A lid bang sounded as he hit the wall alongside the animal, raising his gun to open fire.

As soon as the first laser- laced bullet exited the barrel the woman ran for cover, ducking under the railing to let the bullet sail overhead. Peter watched as it flew, and from the angle it was positioned, the thing should have gone right over the railing and smashed through the drywall….

Until it shuddered to a stop, surrounded by the same creepy red mist from moments ago.

"Uh…." Peter trailed, unable to find the words as it slowly jerked around, the pointed end of the shell in his direction. Gulping, he finally spoke, "You know, I'm pretty sure bullets aren't able to do that…"

The half-alien nearly jumped out of his skin as the woman slowly stood up from behind the railing, her hand raised as her fingers flicked the air, the same red material around her nails as was the bullet. A chill ran down his spine as she then slowly descended the stairs, keeping her eyes on him at all times. It made Peter wonder how anyone could manage not falling down the stairs- nor how embarrassing it would be for her, considering she was wearing a dress and from the looks of it no stockings- or pantyhose, whatever they were called.

 _Now is not the time to think about that!_ Peter scolded himself, log-rolling out of the way as the bullet then zinged at him with the snap of her fingers. He left Rocket abandoned on the floor as he made his escape, Groot screaming in high-pitched terror, waving his little branches this way and that. Breath catching in his chest, the explorer dove behind the desk just as another wave of red went after him, and he swore he could feel a slight burning sensation graze the seat of his pants.

"Geez! Can't you at least take me out to dinner first?!" Peter yelled at her, daring to peek out over the counter. She froze, her face contorted with frustration as she raised her hand again, twirling her fingers. The crimson streaks formed once more, and she poised a fist above her head, ready to throw-

"Peter!" came Gamora's cry, followed by shattering glass as she and their burly companion Drax burst forth through the wall (thankfully missing the now confirmed to be unconscious Rocket Raccoon by a foot.) Peter's face lit up as Gamora and Drax dusted themselves off, brandishing weapons as they joined him behind the desk, the woman widening her eyes at the two aliens.

"Peter, you jerk!" Gamora chastised him, "Did you really think it'd be that easy to just walk in here?!" Blushing, Peter shrugged his shoulders, earning a chuckle from Drax.

"The human is embarrassed," Drax commented, "I find that funny."

"I am Groot!" Groot piped up, wiggling its head out of Peter's pocket. Gamora gasped, fingers curling into fists.

"Quill! Why is Groot in your pocket instead of Rocket's?!" Gamora demanded, her voice hoarse from yelling. Peter thought that was a side-effect from just generally being a loud person, but he knew if he told her she'd give his head to Thanos personally. And it always happened to her so quickly too-

Star-Lord!" Gamora broke through his thoughts, "Answer me!" Her eyes were etched with worry as he sighed, trying to catch his breath.

"Alright let me start off by saying that it wasn't my fault-!" Peter began, and Gamora groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead.

"Peter…!"

Peter jabbed a finger at the woman, who stood there, watching them argue with child-like curiousness. Her magic had died down, her hands free of any supernatural substance that would possibly attempt to kill him and the others.

"I swear it was her!" he cried, "Me and Rock just walked in, right, and she came outta nowhere! She was making all these fanc hand signals and there was some red stuff that burned if it hit you-"

"That does not explain where the animal is right now," Drax said, crossing his beefy arms over his chest. Light danced on the pink tattoos that swirled around his shoulders, down his arms and over his chest, sweat beading his skin.

"Well, obviously he's over there!" Peter pointed to where Rocket lay. It had been a least five minutes since they were attacked. Rocket still not had woken up. Peter told them so, adding, "Which is weird, because with him being genetically modified you'd think he'd be back on his feet in no time-"

"Hey…." the woman called, somewhat quietly, as if she were unsure of herself. Her voice had a slight tremor to it, her hands beginning to shake. Eyebrows knit together with worry, Peter met her eyes and for a minute, he felt bad. He felt bad about just walking in. All she was trying to do was protect the establishment….

"Damn it!" Peter muttered a curse under his breath, "Listen, Gamora. You need to get Rocket out of here. You remember where we parked the ship?" The green-skinned woman nodded, flicking her hair over her shoulder. The strands were raven black, the ends colored a hot fuchsia pink.

"In the strange black box? With all the yellow stripes…?" she recalled with a hopeful grin.

"You mean the parking lot?" Peter emended her. A look of confusion crossed her face.

"Are there many parks in there?" she asked wondrously, raising an eyebrow. Peter opened his mouth to answer, scrunching up his face impatiently, pulling ghee up with him.

"I'll explain later for now we need to-"

"I am tired of this talk of parks and lots!" Drax boomed. Peter noticed the woman jump, crimson streaks flashing at her knuckles. "When shall we do battle?!" Reaching behind him, he pulled his axe from it's sheath, pulling the leather contraption free from his shoulders, "I am ready!" Raising his hands defensively, Peter motioned for him to "Please, put dan the axe…."

Drax laughed, spit flying from the corners of his mouth, "And why should I? I am a warrior, proud to wield such a weapon!"

"Okay, but you're scaring her!" Peter hissed, eyeing her warily. It looked as if she was about to burst into tears.

"But you said she attacked you!" Gamora explained, "With magic fire! I say we attack!"

"Yes!" Drax pumped his fist in the air, Peter scrambling to avert the big guy's attention.

"No, no! No! Guys listen-" he pleaded. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, he sent the woman a pathetic smile. She was shaking like a leaf, the magic orbs at her fingers growing bigger by the second.

"See! She is doing it now!" Gamora stiffened, grabbing Groot from Peter, "I'll handle Rocket and Groot. I have weapons in the hull of the ship in case anyone else attacks from outside." Drax nodded, and with that she scooped up the animal and jumped through the crater in the wall, dust flaring in her wake.

"It is time to do battle!" Drax exclaimed, a slap-happy grin on his face as he charged towards the woman, axe held high over his head.

"Drax no!" Peter yelled at him, "We don't know what else she can do!"

AS if to back him up, the woman raised her hands, the two energy balls rushing to complete themselves. Drax ignored the action, preparing to swing downwards as he made an attempt to plant his feet firmly on the tiled floor; soon he found himself sliding with a crash, abandon his weapon to wrap his arms around their opponent.

"This is exactly what I said Not to do!" Peter cried with agony, barely jumping out of the way of stray magic as the woman let loose a stray spell. It flew through the hole in the wall, blooming like a firework as Peter heard it land with a crackle against the blacktop. She and Drax crash-landed into the stairs, the woman rushing to fire more spells.

"Oh no you don't!" Drax sneered at her, grabbing her hands and collecting them in one of his giant fists. A scream echoed from her throat as he applied pressure, following the very audible (and obviously painful) cracking and splintering of bone.

"AAAAAHHHHH!" the woman screamed, making a feeble attempt to jerk her hands free, slide out from underneath him, kick the mighty green man in the crotch; anything to free herself from the pain of being stud here like this. Sweat beaded Peter's skin as she continued screaming, and the warrior wasn't doing much good.

"Shut up, you insolent wench!" Drax demanded, "The people of my race only like to hear screaming when our enemies die!"

This only made her scream more, if not louder.

"Drax!" Peter shouted, slapping a hand to his forehead, "Not helping!"

"But we stopped her magic fire!" Drax shouted triumphantly.

There had to be a way to calm them down. Peter knew the one way to get Drax to step off was if he blasted his music through his earbuds, but with this lady's screaming, he wasn't sure how loud he'd have to crank the volume. I could try singing, but I don't know if I'm that good of a singer… Peter scratched his head in awe as he watched the scene before him. The stairs had been reduced to rubble, and glass and drywall were strewn everywhere in the lobby.

"I told the prisoner to shut up, Quill!" agitation grew in Drax's voice, "Why does this one not stop?!"

It took a minute for Peter to answer, analyzing the strained terror flooding the woman's eyes.

"What if you asked her nicely?" Peter suggested, but his friend rolled his eyes. No good. Tapping his boot against the floor, he tried to think- it was hard to come up with ideas at times like this, these spur of the moment things…

It had occurred to him that the other to had stopped talking, staring at him in confusion. The woman heaved her chest to catch as much breath as she could, struggling to even gasp like a fish out of water.

"What are you doing?" Drax asked, "That tune… sounds familiar." Peter stopped tapping, bending forward somewhat so his kneecap was positioned directly above his ankle. Dancing o nonsense tunes he randomly sang was a habit, which annoyed his teammates to no end. He didn't care, however, he liked doing t. And it was fun to annoy them snow and again- especially Gamora and Rocket.

"I'm just dancing and singing, like I usually do…" Peter trailed off. Drax scoffed.

"You look stupid," was all he could say. A moment of silence, and then, "I believe you sang that one before though."

"Did I?" Peter stole a glance at the woman. She head stopped struggling and (thankfully) had ceased hr screams. Drax nodded, loosening his grip on the woman's hands slightly. Before anyone could react, she sent a wall of red at the green martian, wriggling out from under him as she turned to yell up the stairs.

" _NATASHA!_ " she cried, her voice tinged with a somewhat thick Ukranian accent, " _NATSAHA_!"

"Who i this Natasha?" Drax inquired, cracking his buckles as he got up. He had been flint into a wall of mirrors, bits of glass poking out of his skin. The woman took a step back, raising her hands. Peter raised his gun once more (he ha forgotten he was still holding it, his knuckles having turned white) to prepare for her onslaught of magic.

But nothing came.

And she seemed just as surprised, staring at her hands in confusion; Peter thought he could see her body wrenching, almost like a piece of gum being stretched as she flailed her arms to no avail.

"N…N….n…" she struggled to speak, her voice a gravelly tremor as she glared at the two men.

"Oh, shit…!" Peter spat out a curse, "Aw, crap- I… I am so sorry-"

" _NATASHA_!"

Peter spun on his heel to send his best death glare to Drax, knives digging into him. As she screamed, Peter could hear muffled voices overhead, followed by the punning of footsteps. Shit! Peter thought, eyes darting around the room. They needed a place to hide, but where?! The lobby was completely trashed, his shoes squeaking against the linoleum as he desperately looked, trying to cover his ears from her piercing shrieks.

"Drax what did you _do_?!" Peter stressed, clutching his hair until he thought he'd rip it out. His gaze fell on her hands; the palms were red and irritated, her fingers and knuckles either swollen and puffy or smashed beyond belief.

"What did _I_ do?!" the warrior shot back, "She threatened me with magic fire!"

"Only because _you_ did it _first_!" Peter whined.

"I do not have fire, nor do I have magic!"

"You know what I mean!" Sparks flew from her fingers as she raised her hands once more, making a feeble attempt to cast a spell. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, sobs wracked with pain as she fell to her knees. Her hair created a brown silk curtain, obscuring her face from view. The footsteps and voices grew louder now, and a few seconds later a woman strode into the room.

"What is going on here?" she demanded, her demeanor assertive as she approached the situation. Her red hair was cut short, and she wore a leather jumpsuit. On her waist was a silver belt adorned with fancy guns. Peter had no doubt she'd use them if necessary.

"Nothing!" Peter snapped, "We were just leaving!"

"Did she say you could leave?" a deep voice commanded, and the red-haired woman was joined by a rather tall rather muscular man. His blond hair flew alongside his deep red cape in perfect harmony, and he wore a shiny metal breastplate over a pair of black leather pants tucked into boots. Glowering at them, he gripped a hammer tightly in his fist.

It was almost casual, the way he held it, and Peter gulp as he began playing with it as if it were a basketball, balancing it on his index finger.

"Oh, uh….no?" Peter guessed.

"So tell me," the woman repeated, "what's going on?"

Now Drax lunged forward, drool flying from his lips as he chimed in.

"Either you fight like men or yield!" he yelled, "My people have no time for playing with your magic fire!"

"Magic fire?" the redhead questioned, "You think Wanda's magic is fire?"

"Wanda…?" Drax chucked darkly, "Your guard dog here?" At this Wanda cried loudly, and a third man rushed to help her up of the floor.

"Wanda is not our pet," the redhead glared at the two intruders, "she is our colleague and friend." Thor nodded in agreement.

"I agree with the Black Widow," he said, swinging his hammer nonchalantly, "Those who speak poorly of a friend is no friend of mine."

"Okay, well, I apologize for my friend's behavior-" Peter tried to explain.

"Dude, her hands are broken," the third man chimed in, holding Wanda close. "I'll take her to Sam, see if he can help patch her up." They could hear him consoling Wanda as she whimpered with pain, careful not to let him near the red sparks that shot from her fingers. Once they were gone, a pregnant silence hung in the air, a dare for someone to make the next move. Thor was eyeing Drax and his large silver axe warily, hefting Mljolnir in his fist.

Peter rolled his shoulders, cracking his joints as he analyzed the situation he was currently in. Rocket was unconscious and with Gamora and Groot back on the ship. There was a giant hole in the wall and broken glass everywhere. He and Drax had just been attacked (or rather, attacked her) a woman with supernatural abilities, breaking her hands in the process.

And now they were most likely about to get their asses kicked by a red-haired woman with a gun and a guy wearing his mother's drapes.

"Well?" the woman crossed her arms, sneering as she waited impatiently.

"Well…. it was _nice visiting see ya soon_!" Peter jeered as he hightailed it out of there, clambering his way through the hole in the wall and to the ship where he could see Gamora waiting at the deck ramp.

Hopefully he and Drax made it inside before Blondie caught up.


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken a while for Sam and Rhodey to calm Wanda down, both men startled when Clint ushered her into the kitchen.

The story behind Wanda's injury was even more appalling.

"Wait, so, tell me again?" Sam said for the millionth time as he helped Wanda slip her arms into a matching set of slings. The Ace bandages were wrapped snug around her hands, careful not to damage her bones anymore than they already were. A sheen of sweat broke out on her skin, Clint rubbing her back as he cleared his throat to explain once more.

"There were some intruders," he coughed, "Some guy with his pet raccoon-"

"I resent that, asshole!"

The four of them turned to see Thor and Natasha hauling in said man and animal, both of which didn't look too happy about being manhandled. The raccoon was snarling angrily, claws swiping at the air as he made an attempt to break free.

"Hey!" the man shouted at him, "You got knocked out!"

"So?!" the animal sneered, "I ain't takin' lightly to no jarheads! Put me down or so help me-!"

Rhodey blinked, exchanging an uneasy look with Sam. There was no way an _animal_ was _talking_. They watched as Thor held it gingerly by the scruff of its neck, an orange jumpsuit dangling on its skinny frame. A bushy tail poked out of the back, wagging left and right.

"Please tell me I'm dreaming," Sam deadpanned.

"Dude, if you're knocked out you have no say, so shut up already!" the man shouted back at his companion, jerking his arm away from Natasha, who had a stern glare on her face. Straightening out his leather jacket, the man turned to her, "And if you were not a hot lady I _so_ would punch you in the gut right now! This is expensive leather right here!" Natasha rolled her eyes, sashaying over to the counter where a plate of cookies sat. Picking one up, she sniffed it before taking a bite, chocolate chips and flakes of baked dough spewing crumbs everywhere.

"Asshole," Wanda cursed under her breath, receiving a look of shock from everyone else. Furrowing her brow, she asked innocently, "What?"

"Asshole is _right_!" the animal yelled at his friend, "You should learn to listen once in a while!"

" _Drax_ was the one who broke her hands, not me!" he shot back.

 _Drax?_ Sam thought. It sounded like something from a comic book or a video game. Then again, with his job he basically worked as a comic book, little kids reading about the adventures of The Avengers and such in newspaper clippings and magazines. It unnerved him a little to be put in the same boat as someone named _Drax_ , of all things.

"So, this Drax guy is basically the Hulk?" Rhodey chimed in, catching the man's attention.

"Are we talking Ed Norton Hulk or Mark Ruffalo Hulk because those are two very different things, my friend," Peter pondered, licking his lips. Sam rubbed his temples.

This was so not happening.

As if to add to the mess, the door banged open and in walked a woman- a _green-skinned_ woman at that- looking angrier than Nick Fury without his morning coffee. And _that_ was pretty scary. Before anyone could say anything, she withdrew a gun and held it out in front of her, waving it at each individual.

"Release my friends at once!" she demanded, throwing back her shoulders to exude an air of confidence.

"Looks like Hulk has a hot date, huh?" Rhodey whispered in Sam's ear, trying to suppress his laughter. He was immediately silenced from her glare.

"Gamora!" the man cried happily, his eyes lit up like a child opening presents at Christmas, "You came to save us! Yes!" The woman- Gamora- rolled her eyes at him.

"Star-Lord, you idiot!" she snapped at him, her skin turning a darker shade of green with anger, "I only came to get you because Drax is impatient when kept waiting!"

Sam noticed Natasha cock her head in confusion, a gleam of recognition in her eyes. Cautiously, she ran her fingers along her gun, approaching Gamora with wary.

"Did you say Star-Lord?" she asked. Gamora raised an eyebrow at her.

"That is his name, no?" she replied, "aside from Quill? What do you call it- secret identity?"

Once the name was said, it clicked. Turning ferociously, Natasha pulled her gun free from its holster, pointing it at Quill. In return, he raised his hands in defense, eyes widening as he grimaced.

"Okay _why_ does everyone want to shoot me?!" he asked, his voice cracking. Natasha jutted her chin at him.

"State your business," she demanded coldly. The intruder looked at her with bewilderment. What did he do to cause such a mess?!

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you people?!" Star-Lord- Sam _swore_ that was _not_ his actual codename- whined, "I just came back to Terra because I found some of your _shit in my galaxy_! Like _c' mon_!" He was greeted by silence from all parties, Natasha lowering her weapon. Sam watched the scene lay out before him- never had he seen her lower a gun while on defense. Even in battle, if the opposing force was calm and polite, she kept an eye on them. She was a tough cookie and everyone knew it.

But to have this stranger make her do something like that? Surrender with the snap of his fingers? He couldn't believe he was witnessing it. It wasn't like the guy was important, right? He felt James nudge him, jutting his chin at the one called "Star-Lord."

"Dude, he say his name was Quill or something like that?" James asked. Sam shrugged. It's what the green girl had called him. He told him so.

"I remember reading something about him from an old newspaper," Rhodey explained, "way back from the eighties or seventies or something."

"Seventies?" Sam crinkled his nose, "Dude, this is the twenty-first century, there's no way he would be that young-"

"Living in space for most of your life does wonders, believe it or not," Quill interjected, receiving a slap upside the head from Gamora, "OW! What was that for?!"

" _For being an asshole!_ " the raccoon decided it was its turn to chime into the conversation, and Sam noticed out of the corner of his eye Wanda smirking at them, shaking her head as she tried suppressing chuckles. He heard them rumble from deep in her throat, her shoulders jerking with each sound.

"Ignore Rocket," Gamora said to Natasha, "They are all idiots. All of them."

"I can see that," Natasha agreed blatantly, chewing on her bottom lip. Running a hand through her red hair, she sighed, widening her stance, "So, Lord Of The Flies-"

"Star-Lord! Get it right!" Peter complained, but Natasha ignored him.

"-what did you find in space? Satellite debris?" she teased, a smirk dancing on her lips, "You know, it isn't uncommon to find pieces of it here and there in the cosmos."

"Listen, if you just put the gun down we can talk this out," Quill requested, his voice barely a squeak as Natasha tipped the barrel against his throat.

"And if I don't like what you have to say?" Natasha suggested, "I guess we'll have all of you torn apart by Banner, lest he get angry." There was a pause before she added low and sultry, "And you won't like him when he's angry."

Gamora crossed her arms, and Sam watched as she paced back and forth. Out of everyone, she seemed to be the most levelheaded, but considering that she was an alien, she wouldn't understand how humans did things. Did hanging around Peter help? Sam wasn't sure, and he might not want to know. Thankfully though, she no longer had her gun raised, cross in her arms impatiently.

"What was it that you found?" Wanda piped up, surprising everyone. If they were being honest, they had forgotten that she was there, eyeing everyone with such fierce intensity it could rival a lion's.

"In space?" Peter clarified. The witch nodded, and Peter cleared his throat, "Well, we were driven the ship out of Knowhere-"

"As in your ship just appeared?" Sam was trying to make sense of the whole situation. Peter rolled his eyes, scowling as he shot back, "No. AS in the planet Knowhere. Really, you guys need to update your solar system or something-"

"What did you find?" Natasha bore down on him, narrowing her eyes. A chill hung in the air as he cleared his throat, brushing non-existent dirt off his long leather coat.

"Right, well," he said meekly, "We may or may not ave heard of the little battle you guys had in Sacagawea or something-"

"Sokovia." Everyone turned to see Wanda glaring just as angrily, leaning back in her chair. Peter nodded, "Right, Sokovia. Well, we may or may not have been on the run from Yondu and his goons, and then we found some weird head made out of bluetooth pieces or something-"

"A _head_?" Rhodey cried out, "What the _hell_ is someone's _head_ doing in _space_? Thor? Did you have anything to do with it?" The god of thunder was silent, raising his hands defensively. Mljolnir hung limply from his wrist, the leather strap pushing back the red of his sleeve.

" _Anyway_ ," Peter groaned, "we found the head and since we heard it came from you guys we thought we'd bring it back before Rocket turned it into who knows what!"

"I _needed_ that, Quill! Goddamnit!"

"Oh, _shut up_ before I skin you for dinner!"

"Not before I claw out your _eyes_ , yah sneaky _bastard_ -!"

A slam caught there attention, ceasing their squabble. Gamora (that was her name, right?) had slammed her gun into the wall, creating a perfectly round, if not large, hole in the plaster. Dust settled in the air as she removed her fist, shaking off the material from her knuckles.

"Tony is going to so have a fit!" Sam heard Clint squeak, the man quieting when Gamora shot a gaze towards him.

"If you want the head, it's on our ship," the green-skinned woman offered, "Now that we have that settled, where can I get some food? I'm starving!"


End file.
